It’s that time of year again. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and the teenagers are tearing their hair out. “Why?” you might ask, aghast.
Let me enlighten you, friend.
Finals. They are the thorn in our side. We can’t look forward to summer, because the closer we get to summer, the closer we get to finals. Late nights, hours spent staring blankly at our notebook.
I even have a friend that fell asleep with her textbook open over her head with the hopes that gravity would kick in and sink the info into her head.
The seniors (those lucky SOBs) are leaving, and they don’t have to take finals. They get to hang out, sign yearbooks, hug their friends tearfully, and make empty promises to hang out over the summer.
We have no motivation to continue. It’s like a dieter being so, so close to their target weight, or an alcoholic within sniffing distance of an exquisite wine.
A plus to the end of the year? We can finally give those teachers a piece of our minds. We let them shovel their crap onto us all year, but what are they gonna do to us now?
I have a teacher, who happens to be a coach, that is honestly awful. He makes racist jokes, prods at religions, insults guys ‘equipment’, gets inappropriately close to the girls, and he’s a huge sexist. I was stupid enough to think it was funny at the start of the year, so I’d banter and joke too, and not take it too hard. But he had the audacity to call me a lesbian and that I should hook up with this idiotic freshman guy because i was wearing a batman shirt. Cause apparently Batwoman was lesbian.
I was taking my DMV drivers test (failed, but in my defense, that bicyclist was out to sabotage me- I hadn’t even left the parking lot yet), and I missed what was probably the best class of the year. My feminist friend finally snapped today. We’ve been swallowing all his B.S all year, but today (according to the many people who related it to me), this is what went down:
Teacher: Ok, so if we have (math formula), let’s say that women are 0% successful, and men are a 100% successful.
Dee: Mr. Kendall, why are you so sexist? (now keep in mind she can sound downright flat and scary when she wants to)
Mr. Kendall: It’s a joke. *Glances around at the guys as if to say “what’s up with this chick”*. It’s supposed to be funny.
Dee: Maybe to immature people.
I also apparently missed him making another joke about me. The hell is this dude’s problem?? I haven’t flipped anyone off yet, but I swear, I’ve come this close to flipping off Mr. Kendall so many times, I’m surprised my finger hasn’t snapped off and beaned him in the face.
Anyway, back to finals. I’m supposed to be studying for them. It’s 20% of my grade. Yet instead, here I am, returning from a party and blogging. Woe is me. *Deep breaths.*
Me, in a few minutes: Here here chemistry notebook…come out come out wherever you are…look, a cookie! Well, I might as well watch something while I eat this cookie!
Five movies and one binge later: FML.